Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(65)

"That was pretty ingenious." She cocked her head to the side as she studied him. "Have you always been this smart?"

He nodded seriously. "Oh, always."

Olivia grinned. But she didn’t smile for long. As she stared at him, she seemed to remember the discord between them, and her lips quivered a moment before falling. Cameron watched helplessly as she drew back inside herself. He wanted to reach out and shake her, make her come back, make her keep smiling.

He swallowed and looked away. "So, you found a job, huh?"

Olivia nodded. "Your dad hired me."

"He did?" The traitor. "When?"

"Just today. I’m officially the new social coordinator of Banks Corporation."

"Really? That’s…" Cameron choked on the word his first attempt. He swallowed and tried again, sending her a forced smile. "That’s great, Livy."

"I think so," she answered, still acting cool toward him and only showing him her back. Then she flung a heated look over her shoulder. "That’s why I came to visit you at work today. To tell you all about it."

"Oh," he mumbled.

"I wasn’t lying when I told Vivian I’d started a new life here. I’ve got a job and as soon as I move out into my own place, I truly will be completely independent for the first time in my life."

She sounded so pleased and proud, Cameron wanted to howl at the moon. He couldn’t return the smile. "So, um, yeah," he said. "Yeah, it really sounds like you’re getting everything planned out. I, uh, I guess you’ve found somewhere to live then?"

Please not. Don’t go.

"Not yet," Olivia answered after a strained pause. He bit the inside of his lip to keep from doing a victory dance. "But I’m supposed to go apartment hunting with your mom next week."

Hell. Both his parents had turned against him? Thanks a lot, Mom and Dad. Make him lose the best thing that had happened to him since—

"Well, good," he said. "I-I’m really glad everything is falling together for you." Just don’t leave me, damn it.

Olivia nodded, and he mimicked the move. When neither spoke, she made an uncomfortable act of crossing her arms over her chest. Then obviously realizing she didn’t need to stand there any longer, she turned and hurried from the room.

Cameron blew out a breath and slumped into a chair, wishing he hadn’t thrown out his liquor. Until he remembered another hiding place he

used to have.





Seventeen



The next morning, Boston arrived at his usual time to pick Cameron up for work. Anxious to see how the newlyweds had fared during the night, he cut the engine and hurried toward the entrance. He found them sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, eating breakfast as if no fight had ever happened.

But Boston could feel the thick tension in the air, heavy, as if someone had just cooked sausages or bacon, which, hmm, it smelled like someone had. The weighty, oily atmosphere seemed to stick to his clothing and made him feel like he needed to shower. Neither party at the table paid the other any notice. In fact, they ignored each other completely.

He stopped in the doorway and eyed the two cautiously.

Cameron glanced up. "Morning," he offered, looking relieved to see his cousin. "Hungry?"

Boston was starving, but he shook his head no, not trusting the quasi-domestic scene in the least.

"I’m pretty much ready," Cam added, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. "Just let me find some shoes, and we can head out."

Boston nodded and moved out of the way as his cousin fled, looking overly anxious to escape. But he didn’t follow. He stayed where he was, his gaze sliding to Olivia. Once they were alone, she finally glanced at him. She didn’t bother to hide her feelings behind a fake smile. "Morning," she mumbled.

"Hey," he said softly, slipping into the seat Cam had just vacated. "How’s the arm?"

"Throbbing."

Boston eyed Cameron’s deserted breakfast plate and snagged a piece of abandoned bacon. "Didn’t the doctor give you any meds for the pain?" he asked around a mouthful.

Olivia’s eyes grew round as if his suggestion was scandalous. "And risk letting Cameron think I’m trying to overdose?" she whispered in dismay. "I think not."

Boston smiled and shook his head, wiping grease from his fingers on a napkin. "He went a little overboard with his assumptions last night, didn’t he?" he agreed as he reached for Cameron’s glass of orange juice to wash down the salty flavor on his tongue.

But he barely tipped the drink back before he was sputtering and spitting the liquid back into the cup.

Olivia came to her feet in worry. "Are you okay?"

He held up a hand to reassure her, all the while choking and coughing. With a couple bobs of the head, he grabbed his napkin and dabbed at the mess he’d made. "Sorry," he offered. "I thought it was orange juice."

Olivia frowned. "It’s not?"

She went to reach for the cup, but as soon as Boston saw her, he tried to intercept.

She was faster.

Bringing it to her nose, she sniffed the orange brew. When her eyes rose toward Boston, he glanced away guilty.

"Screwdriver," she hissed.